


A Dirty Challenge: The Blindfold

by lpfan503



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: M/M, PWP, Sixsome, Tour Bus Sex, tipsy conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lpfan503/pseuds/lpfan503
Summary: Six friends on a tour bus for months on end, away from wives and girlfriends, drinking a little beer. A tipsy conversation becomes a challenge, and a blindfold is involved. Who wins the game? Meteora Era, PWP. M/C/R/B/P/J, or what I’ve named Bourdelnixhahnodaton. Oneshot!
Relationships: Brad Delson/Mike Shinoda, Chester Bennington/Mike Shinoda, Dave Farrell/Mike Shinoda, Joe Hahn/Mike Shinoda, Rob Bourdon/Mike Shinoda
Kudos: 21





	A Dirty Challenge: The Blindfold

Rob was the one to suggest the blindfold. 

Mike wasn’t entirely sure how he was the one who’d ended up blindfolded on the couch in the bus lounge, but his adrenaline was pumping while he waited and listened. He could hear the rustle of movements, of his five band mates rearranging positions so he wouldn’t know who was who when they each took their turn in front of him. 

They’d finally come to the end of their day long Halo tournament - Joe won over Mike to secure the championship - and were out of ideas. Traveling all day was its own kind of boredom and relaxation at the same time, and there had been plenty of beer passed around while they worked their bracket. With Mike’s makeshift studio in the back of the other tour bus, they’d all ended up in the lounge on bus two, and it didn’t look like anyone was going anywhere anytime soon. It was midway through a tough stretch on their Meteora tour, weeks of being away from home and stuck together, but somehow they weren’t tired of each other yet. 

When the game was over they laid around the way they usually did, drinking beer and talking about nothing. All Mike had done was offer a casual comment about Rob and Brad looking alike, and teasing them about the fans they could bring back to the bus for a fling - if they were the kind of rock stars that fucked groupies. There had been a bit of raunchy storytelling about threesomes and confused groupies, but it was all harmless. Not a single one of them was that kind of guy. Chester was married, Mike might as well have been with his wedding coming up next spring, and the others all had girlfriends. Somehow the idea of Rob and Brad doing a lot of things the same had come up, then Joe made a lewd comment about their mouths being fundamentally different, and it was Chester who went in for the kill. 

“Fundamentally different? So you’re saying they blow you differently, Hahn?” Chester exclaimed, and they all laughed around their beers. 

“You ever had two different women blow you the exact same way, Chaz?” Joe asked, his grin wide while he watched Chester consider it.

“But they _are_ the same,” Mike insisted, nudging Chester in the side. They were together on the couch, their bodies comfortably close. “Bourdie and Brad, they’re the same. Same haircut, same goatee, same eyebrows. That’s what the idiots that interview us think.” He knew the difference between their guitarist and their drummer, but so many didn’t. At first it had been funny when interviewers confused them. Then it got annoying. Now the two played along, and answered to each other’s names, just to confuse people more.

“Yeah, they also think you’re a back-up singer,” Phoenix pointed out. The redhead was on the floor, leaning against the built in cabinet that held the television. 

Mike stuck out his tongue before he swigged his beer again. “I’m not a backup singer,” Mike said petulantly, his bottom lip going out in a pout. He was tired of his contributions to the band being overlooked. 

“Of course you’re not,” Chester placated, throwing an arm around Mike's shoulders. “You’re our fuckin’ badass rapper.” A round of nods went through the band, but Mike held on to his stubborn pout. “Awwww, it’s okay Mikey, we’ll cheer you up. How about one of these blow jobs we’ve been talking about?” he teased.

Mike rolled his head on the back of the couch to try to see Chester better. They were so close he could only see the side of Chester’s neck. “There’s no girls here, Chazzy,” he laughed, his eyes squeezing shut with sudden mirth. The idea of a blow job sounded nice, but they were all straight.

“A blow job is a blow job, Shinoda.” Brad looked at Mike and grinned. “You saying you’d turn down a good blow just because we’re not girls?” 

“We could blindfold you,” Rob piped in, and everyone’s head turned at once to their baby drummer. “Then it wouldn’t matter. Like Delson said, a blow job is a blow job.” He shrugged, as though offering to blindfold a bandmate was a normal suggestion.

Mike felt his cheeks flushing at the thought but he scoffed out loud. “I doubt any of you are good enough to make me forget a dude was blowing me.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Chester said, his eyes going around the circle. They were all a little tipsy, but nobody was drunk, and everyone looked a little interested in the experiment. 

“Well,” Phoenix said doubtfully, “if we _did_ try something like that, everything that happens goes in the vault. The last thing we need is the girls finding out. Or the tabloids.” He looked dead serious, and the giggles around the group stopped as they all contemplated what he’d said. Phoenix knew _he_ had no interest in Linsey finding out he’d blown Mike in a dare. 

“Linkin Park tour bus orgy!” Joe exclaimed after a moment, the tension breaking as they all laughed. 

“Okay, okay,” Brad agreed, waving his free hand in the air between the guys as they drank more beer and the laughter subsided. “What happens here stays here. There needs to be other rules, and what does the winner get?” He straightened up and looked at Rob. “It’s got to be more than bragging rights. Though I’m all for proving I’m better than Rob again.”

“Whatever, Delson,” Rob muttered, his voice lost as Chester said seriously, “The winner gets to blow his load, Delson, I think we can all agree Mike is the winner here.”

“How did I get to be the one?” Mike asked weakly, not wanting to admit how horny he was and how badly he wanted a blow job, no matter who it came from. He tried to shift on the couch subtly, but all it did was press Chester closer to his side. 

“You can’t tell us apart,” Rob said, “and somehow that became us one upping each other giving head.” He scratched his face, trying to figure out how they’d ended up fighting to get Mike off.

“Right. So Mike is blindfolded. And no touching,” Brad said, his bossy pants on. “You’d know us by touch. Bourdie’s got fifty pounds on me, easy.” He narrowed his eyes at Mike. 

“We could tie his hands too,” Joe offered, his eyes glittering. “Then there’d be no touching.”

“No, Mike has self control,” Chester interrupted as he looked at the side of Mike’s flushed face. “So we all get a turn, and you pick the winner, Mike. And the winner… you get to come for the winner.” 

The circle was stunned. “Like, who ever he likes best, they get to finish him off?” Rob sat up a little straighter, his eyes coasting over Mike in his giant hoodie and baggy cargo pants. 

“Exactly,” Chester said before he looked back at Mike. “Choose wisely Mikey,” he purred, “not everyone will swallow.” 

“Not fair,” Brad objected instantly. “You can’t promise things, Chaz, just to make him pick you.” 

Mike could feel his dick getting hard just imagining coming in one of his bandmate’s mouths. Completely sober, rational Mike Shinoda wouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. But right now, he wasn’t completely sober, and rationality had gone out the window when blow jobs were mentioned.

Brad looked around the group. “So, are we all… are we all going to watch? Make sure the rules get followed? So Mike doesn’t cheat,” he clarified when all eyes turned to him. “Not because I want to watch or anything.” 

“Sure, Delson,” Joe smirked. “Ten dollars says you’ll have your hands down your pants watching.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Brad snapped back. “I’ve never known you to turn down porn.”

“Free porn,” Rob said, finishing off his beer. “I say we all stay and watch. Keep it fair.” 

“Fair,” Phoenix mumbled, pulling at his collar. He wasn’t so sure he wanted any part of this experiment, but it was too late to back out now. No way he was getting labelled the prude in the band.

Chester lifted his arm from Mike’s neck. He could feel the moist heat coming off of Mike’s skin and it set his stomach on a sharp flutter of desire. He was in this to win it, and he was ready. “Go close the lounge door, Phi,” he murmured, his voice low. Mike’s eyes met his and Chester could see the arousal already there in the depths of his dark brown eyes. 

Mike’s heart was pounding as Rob reached over and pulled the black and white checkered handkerchief from where it was hanging off Brad’s belt loop, coming toward him. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, and then the handkerchief was over Mike's eyes. He heard the door click shut, felt Rob’s fingers at the back of his head as they tied the knot, and he could smell Rob’s cologne as he leaned over him. Suddenly Mike was keenly aware of the sounds and smells in the back of the bus. It wasn’t a large space.

“Let’s draw an order,” he heard Chester say, and then there was whispering. Then movement. And then Mike felt someone crouch in front of him. The hair on his arms prickled. 

The air in the lounge felt heavy and Mike could feel the weight of five pairs of eyes on him, despite not being able to see anything but darkness. The person in front of him unzipped his baggy pants and Mike lifted his hips, helping to push them to the floor. Then they were swept away in the silence. Mike felt the hesitation of the person in front of him, and he went ahead and pulled his boxers down over his cock, giving himself a few quick pumps. He was hard and ready, and excited. It felt dirty and thrilling to know he was being watched, and he leaned his head back on the couch to be comfortable, digging his fingers into the cushions. 

The first touch was tentative, a cool hand around his cock, and Mike jumped slightly. It had been so long since he’d had any action that it felt amazing when the first hot mouth descended on him. It was all business, but it felt good, and Mike was disappointed when that person’s turn was over. He wouldn't put it at the top of his list of blow job experiences, but it hadn’t been bad. Not like the first one he’d ever had in high school, which hadn’t lasted long enough and definitely hadn’t been worth it. 

“Yeah,” he whimpered as places were traded, as cool air hit his slickened dick. “Fuck, ok, that was number one.” There wasn’t a single response, but three band members glanced at each other while one licked his lips and looked at the floor, and another dropped to his knees in front of Mike.

Bandmate number two took a minute to caress his thighs, and Mike trembled under that touch. He exhaled slowly and flexed his fingers into the cushions, trying to imagine who was kneeling in front of him. Was it Chester? Brad? He didn’t think the hands felt large, the way he imagined Rob’s would feel as one travelled up his leg and cupped around his balls, and he didn’t think about the gasp that fell from his lips when that happened. Whoever number two was, he had more technique, and Mike hummed his approval as the tongue slid around his wet head and the other hand pumped him slowly. Trying to figure out who it was took too much energy and Mike gave up, instead focusing on the attention and the caress of his balls every so often. Then it, too, was over, and Mike breathlessly whined, “you’re in the lead so far.” 

Number two retreated, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking at the others, lifting his eyebrows in a clear taunt before taking his seat in the circle. He also couldn’t help that hearing Mike’s approval had given him a bit of a stiffy, and he made sure to adjust before he sat down. 

Bandmate number three was ready, peeling away Mike’s shirt and biting at his nipples before going down on him. It was more aggressive but not unpleasant, and Mike was squirming under his touch. There was more suction this time, and Mike felt his hips chasing that mouth and the pressure that felt so good. He lifted his hand before he caught himself, remembering he wasn’t allowed to touch. It was hard not to shove his fingers into the hair on his head and push their mouth down for more. He wanted to come so bad… and he was only on number three. He was speechless when his bandmate scooted back, his turn over once he’d gotten Mike close to the edge.

 _That_ bandmate grinned around the circle and grabbed his own crotch as he joined his friends, knocking shoulders with one who had already had their turn, and wiggling his eyebrows at number five. 

But it wasn’t number five’s turn. It was number four’s, and everyone else seemed to straighten up to watch as he trailed his fingertips down Mike’s bare chest, sinking to his knees in front of the emcee. Mike was breathing heavy, his chin down as he got control over himself. He felt fingernails scrape gently down his chest and moaned, his head going back again to the cushion as he let himself be teased. Whoever was between his legs now wasn’t rushing. It was the opposite of number three, which he thought he liked more than number two, but it was all starting to run together. _I’ve got to keep them straight,_ he reminded himself, right as he felt hands go under his thighs to scoot him forward. Mike didn’t resist, though he was caught off guard by one of his legs going over the shoulder of the person in front of him. He felt his face flush as everything he owned was exposed, but thoughts of being embarrassed were gone when bandmate four boldly touched his tongue right to Mike’s asshole. 

It was only a moment, Mike realized, a moment meant to ease the way of the very tip of a finger that pressed into his opening as a new warm mouth descended upon him. He’d never had a blowjob like this before, never thought that having anything _there_ would make what was happening to his dick better. But it _so did_ , and Mike was whining on the couch. Number four didn’t see everyone behind him lean forward to watch, or two of his bandmates not even ashamed to touch themselves while he worked. The temperature of the lounge shot up as Mike moaned, coming close to release again before suddenly the finger was gone, the mouth was gone, and his leg was lowered gently to the floor. “Nooo,” he moaned, wanting more. It was so good. _Too_ good, and if they’d gone ten more seconds, whoever number five was wouldn’t have gotten a chance. Mike would have come and it would have been over. “Fuck,” he panted, his hands reaching blindly as number four crawled away, his heart racing. 

“Come onnn,” Mike cried as bandmate five gave him space to calm down again. None of the six could have imagined how hot it would be to reduce Mike to a writhing, moaning mess in the back lounge. Mike was always put together. Always telling everyone else what to do, how to do it, and when. To have him out of his mind, out of control, was something new. They watched Mike paw at the couch, all of them avoiding each other’s eyes as two of them slowly jacked themselves off. They were all turned on, and ready to see the game to completion. There was one more candidate before Mike would make his selection. 

Number five was good, but he wasn’t number four. The entire time Mike wished for the tongue and fingers that belonged to his bandmate that had not only rimmed him but penetrated him, right there on the bus, on the couch they all played video games on. Bandmate five could take him in almost all the way, and Mike had a quick thought that maybe it was Rob who was blowing him, before that thought went away and he moved his hips in time with the mouth that was bobbing on his cock. “Just. A. Little. More.” Mike’s voice was clipped, his body ready, but it was the cue to stop, not to keep going. The glorious mouth was gone, and Mike moaned his displeasure that once again, he was denied release.

Mike was dripping and strung out, brought to the edge over and over, panting on the couch. There was a light sheen of sweat on his skin, his dark nipples hard from arousal. He couldn’t see the way four of his five bandmates were taking it all in, their eyes greedily skimming his naked body. He couldn’t see both Rob and Brad with their hands in their pants, close to their own release from the sight of Mike on the cusp of orgasm. Phoenix didn’t know where to look. Joe was watching with interest, and Chester… Chester had already come, his underwear sticky against him as he watched Mike, his mouth open as he breathed heavily. 

“Number four,” Mike whined, reaching up to pull at his own hair. “Whoever was fourth, I wanna come in your mouth.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that, but he couldn’t change it now. He _absolutely_ had to come, and he needed it to be now. He didn’t care that it wasn’t a girl between his knees. Whoever this was knew exactly how to touch him, better than any girl he’d ever been with. Better than the one he was supposed to marry. 

Bandmate four was back between his legs, mouthing at his balls and gently prodding beneath them. This time Mike let his knees spread wide and he lifted his hips for access, a soft cry falling from his lips when that finger found his opening again. This time it wasn’t just the tip. That finger pressed deeply, seeking, until it found and massaged his prostate. Mike's mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t touch the person giving the glorious blowjob. His hands went up his chest instead, pulling and pinching at his nipples and his hair as his cock was engulfed in the warm wet cavern of the mystery mouth again. 

He heard someone else gasp as they came, and it made Mike’s heartbeat triple. He was being watched, and one of his friends had just gotten off watching what was happening to him. It made the exhibitionist in him, the part of him that loved the stage, even more wanton. “Fuck,” he moaned, his voice low and strained as he twisted his nipple hard. “You’re fucking good at that.” 

It was only seconds more before he came. His body was primed, and the combination of the suction to his cock and the seeking finger massaging his spot too much to resist. All of his cum went right into the mouth around him, another thrill Mike hasn’t been expecting. He felt it filling his friend’s mouth before it was swallowed away, and then there were gentle licks that followed, the cleaning of his softening cock until they pulled away, the finger in his ass already having been removed in the immediate aftermath. 

“Fuck”, Mike moaned again. The realization that he was naked on the couch in front of his five bandmates didn’t even phase him. He had orgasmed hard right in front of them, with no knowledge of anything else that had gone on in the room. He would do it again in a heartbeat. 

There was more movement, and whispering, and Mike sighed as he got control over himself. “I’m taking the blindfold off,” he warned. He pulled it down and it stayed around his neck as he slowly sat up, pulling his knees back together. The guys were all looking anywhere but at him, and Mike knew he had to break the tension. 

“So you were right.” Mike looked from face to face. “Good head is good head.” He couldn’t decide who bandmate four had been, but Chester and Rob looked the most aroused still. Mike almost laughed when he looked at Phoenix and his red cheeks. It was obvious the bassist wasn’t the giver of the best blow job he’d ever had. “Toss me my pants, Bourdie,” Mike asked when he spied his cargos by Rob’s knees. The throw landed in his lap, covering his dick, and that was good enough. He wasn’t ready to stand up and get dressed yet.

“I’m going to go call Linsey,” Phoenix mumbled, hauling himself off the floor and out the door without looking at anyone else.

Brad hollered after him, “throw a box of tissues in here, will you?” and the group only waited a few minutes until a box of Kleenex wordlessly sailed into the room. Brad shrugged as he grabbed a handful. “I like how he thinks getting off with her makes a difference.” He tossed the box over to Rob’s outstretched hand.

“Whatever makes him feel better,” Joe mumbled, falling back to the bus floor. He closed his eyes. “The bus should be stopping soon. I think.”

Chester waved a hand in the general direction of the others. “Good. I need a smoke after all that. And I need to take a piss.” He stood up and stalked out of the lounge. Mike watched him go down the aisle and leaned his head back on the couch again.

“Well? Do you want to know?” Brad asked, arranging his pants now that he’d cleaned up. “You want to know who the great number four is?”

“Do I?” Mike asked the ceiling. “Maybe the mystery is better. It might be better to not know.”

“But we all know,” Rob pointed out.

“I’m guessing it was one of you two, since you’re still bickering over it.” Mike shook his head. “I don’t want to know. You better not fucking let it slip, either. Like Phi said, it goes in the vault. Never to be spoken of again.” 

Joe sat up and stretched, giving Mike the side eye. “Sure, Mike. Never to be spoken of again. Until the next time you’re horny and want to get off. I can almost guarantee you’ll be begging us to tell.” 

“Like you were begging to get off,” Brad added, standing up to throw away his tissues. 

Mike lifted his head and threw a couch pillow at Brad’s head. It bounced off his back and landed on Rob. “Shut up. This was all your idea. You were the one who said a good blow job is a good blow job. You proved your point. You or Bourdie, whichever one of you won.”

“You’ll never know.” Rob grinned and was about to stand up when they all felt the bus slowing. “There’s your stop, Joey. You better get dressed, Shinoda. It’s snack time.”

The bus rolled to a stop, and everyone was ready to hop off, leaving Mike to get dressed alone. He took his time, pulling on his boxers and pants first, then grabbing his hoodie from the couch beside him. He pulled the oversized sweatshirt over his head and got off the bus to find Chester leaned against the side of the bus, smoking silently. Mike glanced at the truck stop, thinking of Doritos and Coke, but went to stand with Chester instead. He held his hand out and the cigarette was passed over without a word. Mike took a deep drag and closed his eyes. 

“Well? Was it good?” Chester finally asked, his eyes on the truck stop. He pushed his black rimmed glasses up and then the hand went through the top of his blonde hair. He’d been blonde for a while. Maybe he’d go look for some dye while they were stopped. He knew Sam wouldn’t care what he did with it.

Mike didn’t look his way. “Yeah. Fucking amazing, actually.” He felt his cheeks blush at the honest admission. “I think it was the best blow job I’ve ever had.” He passed the cigarette back to Chester. He heard the singer take a deep drag and blow it out slowly.

“Any thoughts on who it was?” 

Mike laughed awkwardly. “I thought it was a secret. Bourdie and Brad didn’t want to give it up, I figured it must have been one of them.” He pulled at the neck of his hoodie and realized the handkerchief was still tied around his neck. Mike reached behind him and started to untie the knot.

“You know we all know,” Chester pointed out, flicking ash away from his shoes. 

“I know.” Mike pulled the handkerchief from his shirt and waved it between the two of them. “Rob,” he decided. “I think it was Rob.”

Chester stomped out his cigarette butt and scraped his toe in the gravel. “What makes you think that?”

“He was the one who suggested the blindfold. I don’t know.” Mike pulled at his hoodie again. Despite the cool night, he was feeling warm again. “Though Brad said I didn’t really want to know. That I liked it too much and would want another.” He chuckled softly. “It _was_ pretty fuckin’ badass.” He didn’t realize he’d parrotted Chester’s words from earlier, but Chester heard them.

They were quiet again before Chester gathered up his courage, turning to Mike and taking the checkered handkerchief from his hand before moving to stand in front of the emcee. He leaned both hands on the bus, one on either side of Mike’s head. “Do you know how hot you looked, all spread out on the couch?” he murmured, his voice low, licking his lips. “Blowing you made me come all over myself,” he admitted, satisfied when he heard Mike’s sharp breath. “You have no idea how fuckable you are, Mike Shinoda.” 

Mike laughed nervously at the unexpected turn their conversation had taken, his heart jumping in his ribcage as Chester leaned closer to him. He was caged between Chester’s arms. “Fuckable?” he breathed, trying to look at Chester’s face.

“Yeah. Fuckable.” Chester stepped closer, his lips next to Mike’s ear. “You really think Bourdie knows you well enough to know what you want? Only one person knows those fantasies, Shinoda.” He nuzzled his nose to the shell of Mike’s ear, then licked it seductively.

“It was you?” Mike managed to get out, his pulse racing. He was frozen, waiting for Chester’s next move.

“Mmm, you think you’d remember this mouth if I kissed you?” Chester felt Mike shiver as he kissed down the emcee’s neck. “Or maybe your _thick cock_ remembers this. Maybe this will feel familiar.” 

Before Mike could say anything, Chester’s lips were on his, his tongue licking into Mike’s mouth. It was a whole different kind of instant arousal, the way Chester pressed into him and nipped and sucked at his bottom lip and tongue. The shock of kissing his best friend wore off right about the time Chester pulled back, and Mike whimpered as he leaned forward, trying to chase the lips he suddenly wanted more of, whether that was on his lips or his cock, he didn’t care. 

But Chester was going to leave him wanting. “Oh, Mikey,” he husked, “I can do a whole lot more than you know,” Chester whispered, stepping back and stuffing the handkerchief into Mike’s hand. “You don’t even need to be blindfolded next time.” 

Mike was speechless as Chester walked away, toward the truck stop. He watched until Chester was small, and looked down at the blindfold. The decision was instant. There wasn’t anything he needed in the truck stop. He took the checked handkerchief to the bus he shared with Chester and Phoenix, leaving it on top of the pile of his clothes in the middle of Chester’s pillow and climbing naked into his bunk to wait for more.


End file.
